


Blindsight

by sekiharatae



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-11
Updated: 2009-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A faint, unregarded memory gives clues to Cloud's fragmented self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsight

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Focus

Someone was speaking. Not yelling or screaming, but vocalizing with a passion and anguish that echoed just as loudly in the silence of the reactor. Through her haze of pain, Tifa thought it was a voice she recognized.

Then came the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, accompanied by the clatter of metal and the thump of hard plastic hitting the floor. Careful hands lifted her shoulders, twisting her body from it's unnatural angle, cradling her like something infinitely precious and hopelessly broken. Coarse fabric pressed against her arm and back, warm and comforting in its simplicity. A gloved hand tenderly stroked her face, curving over her cheek and sliding through her hair; and for a few moments, despite the horror of the day, she felt safe and sheltered.

"Tifa..." the whisper was apologetic and concerned... and still frustratingly familiar. She struggled to open her eyes, needing to know who had come to help her, who held her with such care. Heavy lashes fluttered open with much effort, gifting her with an impression of expressive, worried blue eyes, uniformed shoulders, and a shock of blond hair. Then suddenly he was tensing, attention shifting as another, staggering set of footsteps interrupted the stillness.

Venomous words followed, and this time she recognized the speaker immediately, couldn't help the pained shudder that wracked her form. _Sephiroth_.

"Cloud," and that was Zack, his voice little more than a pain-filled groan, "you have to finish him."

 _Cloud? He's really come for me?_

Relief surged through her, mind and spirit somehow utterly convinced that everything would be alright, just by the simple improbability of Cloud's presence, there, when she needed him most. She wanted to see his face, really see him this time, not just a brief glance before her eyes closed of their own accord. But the pain wouldn't cooperate, and he was moving anyway, laying her down on the cold metal flooring, gloved palm cushioning her head. Finally, her eyes slit open the barest fraction, allowing her to watch him grasp that enormous sword Zack had been carrying, and stand, then run, screaming a challenge at the silver-haired madman.

"Cloud!" In her head it was loud; when it escaped her vocal chords it was the barest whisper, although it took all her strength with it. The ring of metal on metal, blades crashing together, escorted her into darkness.

When next she felt fully aware, she was in Midgar with Master Zangan. He explained how he and the nameless Shin-Ra grunt had helped evacuate many of the Nibelheim survivors, before he searched her out at the reactor and carried her to safety. She'd been delirious with pain and shock when he found her, or so he said, and had remained so for days.

So she came to believe that she'd conjured Cloud up in her mind. Lying there in pain, with Sephiroth's crazed voice echoing as he talked to his 'mother', she must have imagined a hero who came to rescue her, ending the insane rampage of Shin-Ra's most famous SOLDIER.

Yet... when she met Cloud again years later, he had more in common with her imagined hero than the young boy she'd known in Nibelheim. His eyes, though glowing with mako energy, were just as expressive and just as blue. His touch was familiar, the brush of his fingers through her hair the same. His height and build were the same.

He was also startlingly _unlike_ the person she'd expected him to grow into, the person she once thought he wanted to be. The person her subconscious insisted he had already become. The whole situation was confusing and disturbing, and she worried over what – if anything – she should do. How to reconcile what she _knew_ had happened, with Cloud's alternate yet all too detailed accounting. How to fit her hazy impressions of a compassionate, dedicated and determined teen with the cocky and sometimes callous man she knew. As they traveled, chasing the specter of Sephiroth, her sleeping mind took to revisiting that dream/memory almost every night, as if trying to reveal some secret.

Awake, she wondered what truth she would find, hidden in those foggy images, if only she could open her eyes and see.


End file.
